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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22553179">Lucky</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisKwamiNeeds_aNap/pseuds/ThisKwamiNeeds_aNap'>ThisKwamiNeeds_aNap</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Miraculous Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adrien Agreste doesn’t do much but I want it to go on record that I love him, Anxiety, Depression, Flashback, Gen, I hate Audrey Bourgeois so much and it shows in this, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mention of injuries, Self Confidence Issues, Vague references to something that might count as gaslighting, also it’s written very spur of consciousness style, but it’s short, it’s angst, it’s super vague, like the entire thing is a flashback because canon won’t give us any, more pressure than 11 year olds should feel, sorry in advance, this doesn’t have a really happy ending and in context of canon it’s even worse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 16:47:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>968</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22553179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisKwamiNeeds_aNap/pseuds/ThisKwamiNeeds_aNap</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>11-year-old Chloé Bourgeois has exactly one friend, and she has absolutely no idea what she’s doing or how to do it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir &amp; Chloé Bourgeois</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>91</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lucky</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this in one sitting a while ago because I was thinking about potential backstories for Chloé, and then I forgot about it, and found it in my notes just now, so I figured I’d post it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The two of them are usually quiet when they have the choice. They’ve spent enough time in the spotlight to recognize that time like this is precious. Time where they don’t have to put on a show, where they can breathe with the reassurance that their expressions and posture won’t be the subject of some pop magazine article, and they don’t have to tailor their words to represent their parents’ brands. </p><p>     Though it’s brief, they’ll take any chances to be children instead of walking advertisements.</p><p>     They sit in comfortable silence for who knows how long, sprawled on the floor, hidden from the windows in the shadow of Chloé’s bed.</p><p>     “What color do you want your nails to be?” Chloé asks. She sees Adrien’s expression and rushes to reassure him. “Don’t worry, I have nail polish remover, I’ll take it off before you leave. It’s just fun to get your nails painted.”</p><p>     Chloé knows she’s scared, but she can’t quite decide what she’s scared of. All she knows is that Adrien has been just a little too numb lately. It’s subtle; she wouldn’t see it if she wasn’t looking, but he’s been taking just a second too long to respond to interview questions, and the fake smiles he wears in public are slightly less convincing, and it makes Chloé burn with something sour. She aches for reassurance that he’s okay, even though she knows he’s not.</p><p>     Some part of her believes that putting color on Adrien will somehow help him, which might be why she’s been smothering him in friendship bracelets and bright eyeshadow since he arrived.</p><p>     She knows it’s stupid, but it’s not like there’s anything else she can do, If only she could read emotions better, if only she was better at knowing what to say... well, nothing would be different for Adrien. Because she’s selfish and she’d just use any power she had to get attention from her parents, like some desperate toddler.</p><p>     She needs to get a handle on herself. She’s eleven years old, after all. That’s plenty old enough to stop being coddled. It’s her own fault that she never draws anything good, that she’s failing at her dance lessons and her grades are slipping. She needs to do better. She needs-</p><p>     But this isn’t about her right now. This is about Adrien. His eyes are closed peacefully, and she knows if he opened them, they’d be the same shade as the green nail polish she’s gently painting onto his fingernails. </p><p>     His hands are so soft. His hands are so soft and smooth and perfect and it shouldn’t be making Chloé this angry. Anger is bad. Anger is an ugly emotion, and apparently the worst thing someone can be is ugly so Chloé should at least be able to avoid that, even if she is a total screw up in every other way.</p><p>     Chloé had wanted a cat for so long. She had dreamed of having a tiny little friend who was always by her, who wouldn’t care if she didn’t make enough eye contact, or read the papers for the latest scandals, or tell her she needed to smile more. </p><p>     She could never ask for one, though. She had seen the scratches all over Alix’s hands and arms from her own pet cat. Maman would never risk something like that. It would end just like the arguments about skateboarding, and soccer, and 6th grade camp. Fun didn’t really matter. Chloé didn’t really matter. What mattered was Chloé’s image. </p><p>     Arguing had gotten boring long ago.</p><p>     And Chloé’s veins were burning with ice because she knew that Adrien’s hands were so perfect because he had an entire marketing team who cared about them. And if somany people cared about Adrien’s hands, and his face, and his image, and his interviews, and his outfits, and his teeth, and his eyes, why couldn’t she find a single person who cared about ADRIEN?</p><p>     “Maman says she might take me to London with her next summer” Adrien said. </p><p>     It was a lie. A lie on Emilie’s end, not Adrien’s. Chloé knew Adrien’s mom; she had never kept her word about anything. It wasn’t fair that she still felt a wave of jealousy wash over her. Emilie Agreste was far from the mother of the year, but at least she could pretend to be nice. At least she didn’t tell Adrien how much of a disappointment he was all the time.</p><p>     Chloé faked a smile. “That’s great!” she said. She tried so hard to mean it, but she couldn’t. Why was she so bad at everything? </p><p>     “I’ve never been out of France” Adrien said.</p><p>     “I’ve only been to England a few times, but it’s really fun.” Chloé said. “My English still isn’t very good though, so that wasn’t as fun. But the people were pretty nice…” She’s rambling now, she knows it. But Adrien’s nodding along and Chloé’s selfish but it’s so nice to have an audience who actually cares what she has to say. </p><p>     A timer goes off, on Chloé’s phone, and she abruptly stops. She reaches for a towel and nail polish remover and starts working at Adrien’s nails before his parents get back upstairs. They rush to sit upright on the couch, pulling out some magazines so it looks like they were reading them the entire time. Neither of them know why they do it. It’s not like they were doing anything wrong, but the thought of anyone finding then together laying on the floor and rambling is, not good, in a way neither of then can explain.</p><p>     It ends up being Natalie, not either of Adrien’s parents, who appears in the doorway. Chloé couldn’t be less surprised. Adrien waves goodbye, and Chloé waves back. And then he’s gone, and Chloé is alone in her room. Again.</p>
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